


ONE NIGHT IN OKLAHOMA CITY

by Anne_Carter



Series: One Night [17]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 22:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17537768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Carter/pseuds/Anne_Carter
Summary: McIntire’s blue eyes narrowed.  “You should be very very careful, Rollins.  You Shield boys are kinda fragile, aren’t you?”  He coldly smiled when Seth stiffened.  “Reigns has gone out…what?...three times now?  First time was a hernia problem, wasn’t it?  Then that virus that took him out of TLC.  And now leukemia.”  He nodded in fake sympathy.  “Then there’s Ambrose.  Nearly died, didn’t he?”





	ONE NIGHT IN OKLAHOMA CITY

**Author's Note:**

> Aftermath of RAW 1/21/2019. Sequel to One Night In Memphis.

_‘I will walk into the Rumble and lay it all on the line. And when the dust settles, there will be one man left standing. One man going to headline Wrestlemania. And that man will be Seth Freakin’ Rollins.’_

Seth Rollins walked through the gorilla position, grabbing a bottle of water as he headed towards the back. Swallowing half of the water before lowering the bottle, he rolled his shoulders to ease the tension. Fighting Drew McIntire was never an easy process, but the win certainly felt good. _‘Maybe McIntire now realizes I’m not a pushover.’_

As he wandered down the back halls of the arena, he began to relax and plan for the Royal Rumble. Not that there was much planning he could do, but…

**“ROLLINS!”**

Hearing that bellow in a familiar voice, Seth spun around. “What do you want, McIntire? You already lost once tonight.”

‘Everybody gets lucky at some point,” Drew McIntire snarled. “Don’t think you’ll be able to eliminate me in the Rumble!”

Seth smirked. “All depends on the luck of the draw. Somebody may throw you out before I even get in the ring. Kalisto maybe? Or Mustafa Ali? Xavier Woods?”

 **“SHUT UP!”** McIntire took a deep breath, then pointed a finger at Seth. “Nobody is going to throw me out of the ring. Nobody in that locker room is strong enough. You’re all weak.”

“Wasn’t so weak tonight,” Seth calmly pointed out. “Finn wasn’t weak in Memphis, was he?” When McIntire stepped forward, Seth shook his head. “Uh-uh-uh, better not. Triple H wouldn’t be pleased to be making changes to the Rumble lineup this close to the event. There would be…serious repercussions. Trust me. I’m familiar with those.”

McIntire’s blue eyes narrowed. “You should be very very careful, Rollins. You Shield boys are kinda fragile, aren’t you?” He coldly smiled when Seth stiffened. “Reigns has gone out…what?...three times now? First time was a hernia problem, wasn’t it? Then that virus that took him out of TLC. And now leukemia.” He nodded in fake sympathy. “Then there’s Ambrose. Nearly died, didn’t he?” He saw Seth struggling to control his temper. “Maybe you boys aren’t fragile. Maybe you’re just cursed.” He laughed as he turned away. “I’d be careful if I were you, Rollins. You’re the only one who’s not gone down and out. You could be next. You **will** be next if I get my wish.” He paused when he heard Seth chuckle.

“Guess you forgot,” Seth commented. “I damn near lost my career when I blew out my knee. Your so-called curse is bullshit.” He chuckled and turned away. “See you at the Rumble, Scotty.” He listened closely to be warned if McIntire intended to jump him from behind. But he heard nothing as he walked away. As soon as he turned the corner, he slumped against the wall then peeked around the corner. Seeing McIntire walking away, he heaved a sigh of relief.

Neither man knew they’d been overheard.

 

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 

“Hey! Hey! We need help down here! Get the trainers!”

Triple H looked up, startled to hear Bo Dallas yelling. He yelled over his shoulder for a trainer then ran down the hall. “What’s wrong.”

“Axel and I found him,” Bo quickly explained as he led the way back into the locker room.

Triple H pushed past Bo to see Curtis Axel kneeling next to an unconscious Drew McIntire, his fingers on the Scotsman’s neck.

Axel looked up. “Pulse is good,” he confirmed. “Little bit of blood on the back of his head and a bruise on his forehead.” He stood and moved aside as the trainers pushed their way into the locker room.

“What happened?” Hunter demanded.

Axel shrugged. “Bo and I were coming back from catering and found him like that.” They heard a moan as McIntire began regaining consciousness. They watched as McIntire feebly tried to shove one of the trainers away.

“Enough, McIntire,” Hunter ordered. “You were unconscious. Go with them and get checked out. We need to be sure you can make the Rumble.”

“I’ll make it,” McIntire snarled as he was helped to his feet.

“What happened?” Hunter asked.

“Somebody hit me from behind,” McIntire answered. “Threw me into the one of the lockers.” He glared at Hunter. “Probably Rollins or Balor.”

“Uh…we saw Finn in catering,” Bo spoke up. “He came in at the same time we did and was there when we left. Talking with Bayley and Sasha.” He ignored McIntire’s glare.

Hunter nodded. “And I know Rollins was doing a photo shoot. I passed them just a few minutes ago.” He motioned for the trainers to take McIntire to the infirmary. “Let me know what you find out.” He followed them into the hallway and glared at the people who’d gathered in curiosity. “Listen up! This is **not** going to be tolerated! Whoever responsible better start praying I don’t find out who did this!” He angrily glared at all of them then stomped down the hallway towards the infirmary.

As the crowd slowly dispersed, Dean Ambrose silently walked away. _‘Well, that was a damn stupid thing to do. What if somebody had been in the hallway?’_

But he knew no one had seen him enter or leave the locker room. And McIntire had never seen him coming. Hunter could investigate all he wanted and would find nothing. And perhaps McIntire would have learned he should be more careful about what he wished for.

_‘This isn’t going to happen again!’_

Dean leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. He rubbed his forehead then slowly worked the kinks out of his neck. 

“Shut up,” Dean muttered. It didn’t matter what the voice said. Justice had been served. And it had felt good. 


End file.
